


Safe Space

by EarendilElwing



Series: McDanno and the Five Love Languages [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Fluff, M/M, Open for prompts, Pre-Relationship, Steve learns the right way to help someone having a panic attack, The Five Love Languages, Words of Affirmation, Writing practice, acts of service, anxiety attack, mcdanno centric, physical touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8510677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarendilElwing/pseuds/EarendilElwing
Summary: Steve and Danny are trapped in a locked room, and Danny's claustrophobia sets in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Have some McDanno fluff to take your mind off of this travesty of an election.
> 
> Part 2 of this series of McDanno-centric drabbles based on the five love languages: words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. Open for prompts. See my [Tumblr post](https://embracetheshipping.tumblr.com/post/152526789514/mcdanno-and-the-five-love-languages)

“Oh no… no no NO!  ARG!”

Steve winced in pain and opened his eyes bit by bit.  He sat still and blinked until the spots faded.  He seemed to be in an enclosed space; his partner was less than three feet away, pounding on what Steve presumed was a door.  

“Ugh - Danny?” he mumbled.

Danny whirled towards him, his flashlight passing over Steve’s face, and hurried to kneel by his side.  He set the light on the floor, took one of Steve’s hands in his own and wrapped his other arm around his shoulders.  “Steve, thank god you’re awake.  Are you okay?”  

Steve allowed his friend to help him sit up.  “Aside from a massive headache, I think so.  What happened?”

“You – uh – you got bashed over the head with a fire extinguisher when we tried to arrest those meth dealers.”  

After propping him against the wall, Danny tried to look at the bleeding bump on his right temple, but Steve waved him away.  “It’ll be fine; don’t worry about it.  Where are we?”

Danny frowned, and wouldn’t let go or move away from him.  “Well, from the mop bucket and the shelves of cleaning supplies, I’d say we were in a storage room,” he deadpanned.

“Okay…” Steve drawled.  There was a funny taste in his mouth and it was difficult to form words.  “And how did we get end up in here?  Did they hit you, too?”  As soon as the thought left his mouth, he straightened, concern for his companion outweighing his own discomfort.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.  They punched me a couple of times, but they didn’t knock me out.  They dragged you in here and um - they said they’d shoot you if I put up a fight, so here we are.”

Steve blinked a few more times in the hope that his sight would improve, but even if he wasn’t injured, the flashlight didn’t help much.  He could just barely make out Danny’s form and some of the objects he’d mentioned in its glow, but little else.

Steve reached out with his other senses.  Except for what originated from their movements, there was no other sound, neither in the room nor outside of it.  The air smelled of stale water and disinfectant, and it was stuffy and motionless.

Steve then directed his attention to their joined hands and the strong arm encircling his upper back.  He used that as a focal point to push through the pain and center himself.  In doing so, he came to realize that Danny’s hands were trembling.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, as soon as he felt able.

“Oh, of course; no problem.  I’m only stuck in a room that’s barely bigger than a coffin, with a partner that has a concussion, no air, and only one door - which is locked from the outside.  Oh – AND my phone is dead, so I can’t get through to anyone for help.  Yeah, doing great!”

 _‘Claustrophobia,'_ Steve thought, remembering his colleague's plight.  The room wasn’t terribly small, maybe the size of an average office, but the lack of windows and the single, locked door was enough to trigger his fear.

“Alright, help me up, Danno.”  The sooner he figured a way out of here, the better it would be for both of them.

Steve recognized hesitation in Danny’s movement.  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?  I don’t want you passing out again.”

Steve smirked and jumped on the opportunity to tease him.  “Aww - are you worried about me?  That’s sweet, babe.”

Danny snorted and pulled Steve to his feet.  “I’m always worried about you,” he grumbled.  “Since you insist on jumping headfirst into every situation we face, without backup, 'worried-about-Steve' has become one of my default modes.  It’s usually tied with 'beyond-pissed-off-at-Steve'.”

He leaned on Danny for support as he hobbled over to the door.  “Interesting.  So do you have an 'I-love-Steve-and-my-life-would-suck-without-him' mode too?”  He was joking, but he was also curious of the answer.  ' _Must be the concussion.'_

“On the rare occasions that you decide not to act like a colossal asshole, then yes.  There is – probably – a switch buried VERY deep within the Daniel Williams mainframe for that.  Now can we focus on trying to get out of here, please?”

“Right.  Hand me the flashlight?”

Steve examined the only point of entry and exit to the room as best as he could.  It was solid metal, which obviously meant that they would not be able to break through it.  On running the light and his hand over the outline of the door, he discovered that there were no hinges on their side, the handle was a bar with no keyhole, and the seam was too tight to try and wedge a tool through.

“Well?” Danny prompted.  “Got any brilliant ideas, Super SEAL?”

Steve returned the light to him.  “Just one.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“You got a signal in this box?” Danny asked.

“One bar,” Steve confirmed.  He pressed the speed dial number for Chin and held it up to ear.  As he waited for their teammate to pick up, he wondered, “How come _you_ didn’t try my phone?”

“Oh, well let’s see, other than assuming you wouldn’t want me to go for second base while you were unconscious, I guess I was busy making sure you weren’t dead and/or trying to bust down the door,” Daniel snapped.

“Okay,” Steve nodded but regretted  the movement immediately.  Chin’s number went to voicemail, so he switched to Kono’s instead.  “You can just admit that you panicked, Danno.”

Danny’s jaw tightened.  “Really?  You think I’m gonna cop to that, Mister Sensitive?  After all the shit you gave me last time I had to crawl around in a dark hole?”

“Danny, I-”

“No!”  He held up a finger to silence him.  “I don’t want to hear it, Steven!  I’m sorry that I don’t have the same constitution as you when it comes being locked in a confined space, but not everyone can be as tough and confident, okay?”  He paused and took a shaky breath.  “I - um - I’m having a really hard time here, what with you getting cold-cocked and all…” he waved his hands around them, “...this.”

Whatever Steve meant to say died on his lips.  He turned away from the door to observe his partner.  

Danny shuffled on his feet, and his movements were tense and rigid.  He was holding the flashlight at about waist height; the angle gave off just enough illumination for Steve to notice the beads of sweat trickling down Danny’s neck and forehead as well as the rapid pulsations of his chest.  His whole body shook, and if Steve had been able to make them out clearly, he guessed that he would spot dilated pupils and a colorless complexion.  

“Danny, it’s going to be alright.  You just need to calm down.”

“Calm down?  Calm down?!”  He began to laugh, his inhalations coming in short gasps.  “The longer we’re trapped in here, the less air we have.  And you want me to calm down?”  He dropped the flashlight and doubled over, hands on his knees as he started to wheeze.

“Danny!”  

_“Steve?”_

At last, the other end of the line connected, and Kono’s voice interjected.  

“Kono!  Listen; Danny and I have a situation…”  Steve described what had happened as he recalled it, with brief outbursts from Danny to correct him, and their location as they understood it.  She had Chin track the GPS in his phone, promised that officers nearest to their location would free them, and that they would be there as soon as they could – which, unfortunately, would still be about thirty minutes at a minimum in both cases.  The area was secluded and police officers did not consistently frequent it in their routes.

“Great!” Danny gripped after he’d hung up.  “Trapped in here for another half hour.”

“It’s not that long, Danny.  We’ll be fine.”

Danny rounded on him, looking like he wanted punch him in the face.  Steve suspected that, had he not already been suffering from head trauma, Danny would have.  

Steve would rather avoid that.  Even in good health, he did not care to get into physical altercations with his best friend; the Jersey native had a mean right hook.

But more importantly, he was getting more and more agitated by the second, his breathing almost as short and labored as when he’d been poisoned by sarin.  He stumbled back and forth across the small room, a hand to his chest and the other tearing at his hair.

Steve intercepted his path and took Danny’s face in his hands.  “Eyes on me, Danno.  Don’t look at the room; look at me.”  Once he had complied, Steve demonstrated taking a long, deep breath.  “Concentrate on your breathing, buddy.  Work with me.”  He repeated the exercise several times, uttering words of encouragement with each successful inhalation and exhalation.

Danny’s terror receded somewhat, but Steve still felt a rapid pulse beneath his fingers, and Danny’s body practically vibrated with the force of his shaking.  Unless their rescuers showed up in the next few minutes, he had to do more to stop Danny from hyperventilating, or worse, in his frenzied state.

“Listen Danny, we can get through this.  We’re gonna be out of here before you know it.  But until our backup comes, I want to help.  What can I do to help you with this?  What do you need?”

“I, um… ”  Danny stuttered.  His face flushed, and he pulled away.  

Steve released him, but stepped into his path if he tried to turn away.  “It’s okay, Danno.  Whatever it is, just tell me what you need to feel safe right now.”  

“N-no, I don’t think that’s a good idea.  I…”  His air intake started to increase in frequency again.

Steve tried to reach out for him, but Danny recoiled.  “Come on, Danny.  Stop being so irrational.”

“No!” Danny exploded.  “No, Steve – you’ve been an inconsiderate jerk about this ever since I told you I have claustrophobia.  And yes – I realize that I am being irrational right now, but a phobia is, by definition, an irrational fear.  Although right now, that’s not entirely the case, because on top of all this, you’ve been hurt - again!  And I just stood there and let it happen!  So really, I can only guess that being locked in this box is some sort of karmic payback.”  He giggled during that last statement, his anxiety progressing towards hysteria.

“Danny, that wasn’t your fault,” Steve insisted.  He grimaced, having just realized that perhaps his frequent taunts and jokes at Danny’s expense may have cut deeper than he’d known.  “And having claustrophobia is not your fault either.  Look, I’m sorry I haven’t tried to be more understanding.”

Danny gave no indication that he’d heard the apology.  He stumbled to the wall opposite of the door and put his back to it, then slid down, his body curled inward and hands tugging at his golden locks again.

Steve shuffled after him.  He scooped up the discarded flashlight and knelt before Danny, aiming its beam low so that he could see his face without blinding him.  “Danny,” he whispered, touching a hand to his knee.  “Talk to me.  Tell me what you need.”  

Daniel reluctantly met his gaze.  He glanced away and mumbled something.

“Sorry?  Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I think - Imightneedahug.”  Danny crossed his arms and fidgeted.

Steve blinked, narrowed his eyes, and tapped the side of his head in an effort to clear the fog that still lingered on the edges of his processing abilities.  “I’m sorry; I don’t think I heard you correctly.  Did you say you needed a _hug_?”

Danny scowled.  “Y-yes.”

Part of Steve was just itching to pounce on that as a new source of teasing material, but he thought better of it – for now at least.  The other half of him was confused.  “Okaaay.  Um - not that I’m opposed to it, but how will that help?  Won’t that make you feel even more confined?”

Danny avoided his gaze.  “I-if… if it was anyone else but you...” he heaved and left the thought unfinished.  “B-but… I, um… I feel… safe… when _you_ hug me.  It helps me calm down.”  He pointed an accusing finger at Steve.  “And don’t think the irony of that isn’t lost on me, considering how often you get me shot, or stabbed, or poisoned, or…”

“Okay, okay; I get it!” Steve laughed.  The part of him that wanted to mock Danny for this was still there, but something else was replacing it.  He couldn’t describe it, but the idea that his best friend needed him, that he was comforted by both his presence and his touch – it sparked a strange warmth in his chest.

“If that’s what will help you get through this, I’m more than happy to hold you, Danno.”  Steve shifted so that he was sitting next to him.  He lifted one arm and draped it across Danny’s shoulders to pull him in close to his side, stretched his long legs out in front of him, and leaned his head back against the wall.  He closed his eyes.

Even though Danny was the one that requested this, Steve felt him tense up.  He resumed a slow, deliberate pace with his breathing, trusting Danny to follow suit.

Sure enough, Danny matched him and, very, very gradually, relaxed into Steve’s embrace.  He shifted toward Steve, and his arms crept up to encircle his waist.  He bowed his head and rested his cheek against Steve’s chest.

“Hey, this isn’t so bad,” Steve mused.  He intoned his voice with nonchalance for Danny’s sake, but he meant it.  The two of them had hugged before, usually after surviving some sort of life-threatening crisis, but there was something gratifying and comfortable about their current position.  He lacked his partner’s effortless ability to process and express his feelings, but there was a sense of _rightness_ to this.

Minus the whole locked in a storage room scenario.

“Hey, Steve?  Sorry, and - thanks for this.”

Steve opened his eyes and glanced down.  He grinned.  “You don’t need to apologize, babe.  As for this,” he tightened his hold on Danny, “I’ll gladly do this anytime.  You, um - you don’t need to wait for an incident to ask me to hold you.”

Danny’s huffed at that, but he huddled closer.

A couple of officers freed the trapped detectives not long afterwards and escorted them to the nearest hospital for treatment.

Upon their release, Danny threatened Steve with painful vengeance if he ever disclosed his vulnerable request to the rest of Five-0, but Steve assured him that he would keep that information to himself - on the condition that they hug and/or cuddle more often.

Danny didn’t object.

**Author's Note:**

> This series is open for suggestions and prompts. I can't promise I'll do all of them, but I'll certainly give each one consideration. I'll credit each suggestion appropriately and AO3 users will receive them as gifts.
> 
> Thanks for reading and putting up with my attempts to practice!


End file.
